Our Demons Sing Together
by PrincessxXxDarkness
Summary: 'I can't breathe.' Stiles let out a moan of pain. 'I'm going to die and no one is going to find me. Man, Isaac is going to get a kick out of this.' The grunt cut off and a strangled laugh left his taped off mouth. 'I always gave him shit for his claustrophobia and here I am stuck in a fucking box.' M/M. Non-con, torture.


**A/N: Original cast will be used and this is AU. This seriously took forever to upload and I don't expect to get many followers for it. If you do like it leave a review. Too short? Too long (doubtful)? I haven't seen many Stiles/Isaac stories and I've really been enjoying that lately. I'm also working on a Sterek story with a similar nature. So let me know if anyone would want to read that! I am aware that I go back and forth with my tenses, so if anyone wants to be my Beta shoot me a message! The next chapter will be longer and up shortly, I realized I could my phone came with a OneNote and I find it easier to type on my phone rather than my laptop, so please follow/review/favorite!**

 **Warnings: M/M. Abuse, non-con, psychical and mental torture. I'll try to leave a label when I plan to be too graphic, but it will probably be a major part of the story. And I have no Beta. So yeah, there will be errors.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or any of the characters. Just my plot and any random people that appear not in the show.**

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Stiles' bed was something that Isaac would have called " **karma** ". The wooden box gave him a couple of inches of toe wiggling room, but the rough ropes tied around each ankle pulled his legs to each side of the container so that he couldn't move his feet. Each arm, raised right above his head, had metal handcuffs biting into the cut up flesh and also connected to metal hoops screwed into the wood, hands barely able to move as well, and finally a leather strap around his neck. Stiles was able to move his head around, but if he tried to lean his head onto the wood above him it would tighten and prevent him from actually being able to touch the smooth surface.

He wasn't sure how long this place had been his bed. Days? Probably not. Weeks? Months? He could see that.

He grunted as his body jerked, tugging at his restrains, to a stop and he could hear muffled voices. At some point his box had been moved, he was blind folded and mouth taped shut beforehand, and places in a truck of some sort and they had been driving ever since. How long had passed? He had no idea, but then again he kind of lost all sense of time since this whole thing started.

"Why can't we just leave this brat on the side of the road?" A deep voice barked out, closer than before.

"Because you know he'll find out that you did and then we'll be the ones in a box." A softer, but still menacing, voice said.

Something hit the side of the box and Stiles imagined the wood giving under the pressure. It happened a few more times, each time shoving the box over a tiny bit, before it crashes to the hard floor. Stiles let out a muffled scream as the motion tugged at every cut on his body, hit every bruise on his fragile skin and the back of his head smacked against the wood and bounced off. To preoccupied with trying to settle the blood roaring in his ears, Stiles didn't hear the car take off and leave the teen in silence.

 _'It's okay_. _'_ The terrified teen thought to himself. Sure, he'd been through some rough... **"games"** , but this was new. His heart beating so hard he thought it would jump straight out of his box. _'I can handle this.'_ His pointer finger on his right hand bouncing up and down from its spot, which only succeeded in irritating the newer wound on his hand, but he couldn't stay still. Whatever they drugged him with earlier was amazing and swimming through his blood stream. As long as he didn't move too much then the pain was nothing more than a throb throughout his body.

Stiles wasn't sure how long he stayed there, the blindfold preventing him from seeing the sun or stars through the cracks in the wood, but he could feel his heart squeezing in pain with each breath he took. It seemed like he couldn't get enough air into his begging lungs, a stinging in his eyes to let him know that tears were collecting and his nose getting clogged with mucus as the salty water fell. Which only made it harder for the flustered teen to get the air he needed.

 _'I can't breathe.'_ Stiles let out a moan of pain. _'I'm going to die and no one is going to find me. Man, Isaac is going to get a kick out of this.'_ The grunts cut off and a strangled laugh left his taped off mouth. _'I always gave him shit for his claustrophobia and here I am stuck in a fucking box.'_ An image of the former Beta he knew flashed in his head followed with his other friends in the pack.

Scott. With his uneven jaw and a lopped sided grin that he always wore.

Allison. Man, she was beautiful. Brown hair framing her face and a bright smile always on her lips.

Lydia. God, he used to love her. Strawberry blonde hair falling down her back and her plump lips always in a pout.

Jackson. Derek. Danny. Boyd. Erica. Isaac.

A scream that made blood run cold tore its way out of his throat as he yanked hard on his restraints. He could feel warm blood spilling down his wrists as the wounds reopened against the harsh metal. He didn't care. He wasn't going to die here. His could barely press his fingertips to the top of the box, but as soon as he felt the wood he clawed at the offending wall. His wails died down as a weak whimper finally left his throat and the tears rolling down his face. Something made a thud noise sounded somewhere by him, but he paid no mind as the sobs continued to wrack his frame.

The screech of the wood being ripped open assaulted Stiles and as he tried to cover his ears, the cuffs dug deeper into the bleeding flesh; he whimpered. Words were being said, but nothing was making sense. The ropes at his feet slacked and he could feel the pins as the blood rushed back into his limbs. Something warm touched his hand and he yanked at it.

He tried to say something, but the tape prevented it. It was tugged off. Stiles sucked in air and tried to keep it in for 5 counts, but he couldn't and exhaled out a shuttered breath.

Inhale.

Something tugged at his bleeding wrist and suddenly his hand fell limp against the bottom of the box.

Exhale.

Words meshed together as voices came from all around his shaking form.

Inhale.

His other hand fell limp.

Exhale.

His blindfold was tugged down and that shocked Stiles back to life. The teen shot up from the box and scrambled out, tripping at the bottom and crashing onto the dirt floor, but he flipped over onto his ass and tried to scoot away. Feet pushing off of the dirt ground.

But his eyesight connected with his brain and he finally saw everything. The bodies that were getting too close and the soothing tones finally hit his ears, but the words not processing.

"Stop." Stiles managed to croak out. Time seemed to freeze as the bodies stopped getting closer and the noises paused. Stiles sat on his ass, legs extends forward, with his arms bent down and hands holding onto his head. He couldn't breathe; he tried to suck in air, but it wasn't helping. Everything around him was spinning and he could feel his head get light.

A voice called out to him and Stiles tried to pull his head out, but couldn't. The air wouldn't stay in and he could feel his lungs withering in his body. The only noise he could place was his own heart hammering away and heavy breathing as the air escaped his mouth. Something soft tugged at his arm and he finally let it drop. Without bringing his head up he managed to look up from under his thick lashes; whiskey colored eyes met blue eyes.

"Isaac?" Stiles gasped out as the face in front of him finally clicked. He picked his head up and swung it around. Everyone was here. "No." He manages to wheeze out as he brought his hands up again. The pain in his chest increased as he dismissed what he was seeing. Stiles hands slid into his brown hair and tugged at the strands, something he always did as a kid when he had panic attacks, and felt like the world was going to crush him.

"Stiles!" Someone yelled and roughly grabbed at the shaking teenagers shoulder. Another scream tore out of Stiles' chapped lips as he jerked away from the offending hand holding his arm. Stiles fell on his back and just went with it, withering and screaming on the dirt floor, if the group didn't know any better they would have probably thought he was having a seizure.

Finally feeling drained, Stiles' screams were the first to stop followed by his legs as they slowly stopped pushing against the ground and his back lying flat, the hands fell from his head and his chest heaving to try to catch more air. From this view Stiles managed to see the sky, he cocked his head to the side realizing that this was the first time he's seen the sky since he's been gone, white clouds dotted around the orange and pink tinted sky; the sun lowering behind trees and a sense of peace washed over his exhausted body. It wouldn't be long for the sun to set and for the darkness to creep over his limp form.

"Stiles?" A quiet voice murmured from beside him. He rolled his head over to his left side and let his eyes analyze the crouching young man beside him. Wide, frantic eyes took in Stiles, now, relaxed face and that allowed Isaac to relax his own tense shoulders. He was leaning on his toes, knees off to the side so he was closer to Stiles, but could still move back if he needed to. His dark blond, maybe a light brown, hair had a slight curl to it and was sticking out all around his head. Stiles reached out a hand and almost had it smoothing out the wild hair when he stopped and stretched out his fingers to stare at. Stiles' eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he counted his fingers, mouthing each word and wiggling each finger as he counted them off, his confused gaze dropped to Isaac's hands. Stiles held out his hand and waited for Isaac to place his in Stiles' awaiting one. Stiles rolled over slightly, so he could bring his right hand over, and cradled Isaac's hand between his two shaking ones. His left hand holding on tightly to Isaac's as his right hand tapped watch finger as he counted again.

"5?"

Finally he settles his gaze onto Isaac's face, his jaw tense, as he gave a jerky nod. For the first time he noticed Isaac's cupid bow lips moving. He tried to quiet his breathing and focus on the voice being brushed away by the wind.

"You're okay. Everything's fine now." Isaac kept repeating it and Stiles snorted. They both knew it was bullshit, but the words still soothed Stiles to the core. Leaves crunched to Stiles right and he tensed up, his body raises slightly onto his left side so he couldn't see what made the noise. Blue eyes lifted from brown eyes and instead focused above Stiles body. "Leave."

There was something tense in the air, but in a moment Stiles could hear several retreating forms. He furrowed his eyebrows trying to think about the other people. Realization dawned on his face as he finally made the connection. The pack. The pack just saw him have a breakdown.

Fuck.

Isaac proceeded to settle himself on the ground next to Stiles, his hand still being held between Stiles', and just lied there. Both boys turned their eyes toward the sky and let the silence lap around them.

Well...

"You know, last time Lydia saw me have a panic attack she kissed me."

Isaac turned his head to look at Stiles, who in turn looks back at him and winked. Both boys cracks a half smile at the attempt to lighten the mood.

"I realized something," Stiles waited for Isaac to say something, but continued when he didn't. "I don't like small spaces."

This time the older male barked out a laugh. Stiles used to always give him shit about being locked in a freezer, and both boys thought of it as karma, but he wouldn't have wished for Stiles to go through it.

"Are you with me now?"

Stiles nodded, realizing he had zoned out.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded again, both boys knowing it was a lie, but he was glad that Isaac didn't call him out. Isaac squeezed his hand in reassurance before standing up and helping the damaged male up as well. It took a minute of struggling, but Stiles managed to stand on his own feet without his legs giving out.

"Come on." Fights still intertwined, he pulled Stiles in the direction he knew the pack would be. The cuts on his wrists had slowed their bleeding, but a small, steady stream continued to fall and paint both hands red.

The rest of the Pack stood around in silence as the two guys made their way through the trees to them. Scott stood the closest to them, balancing from foot to the other, and his hand securely locked in Allison's. When his eyes landed on his best friend he had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around him and just hug him, but the look on Stiles face made Scott reconsider his idea and instead squeezed Allison's hand tighter. On Allison's side was Lydia, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as her eyes ran up and down Stiles, Jackson stood a few feet back from her next to Derek. The ladder of the two had his natural glare on his face, but his green eyes holding concern.

Stiles felt all the eyes on him, but chose to keep his head bowed down. His bare feet covered in dirt and cuts, probably from all the thrashing he did earlier, his once blue jeans were cut off to expose his calves and the angry red welts on his ankles. Stiles wasn't exactly sure whose shirt he was wearing, but it reminds him of the black shirts Derek always wears. Thankful for the long sleeves he was able to ball up his free hand under the material. Finally looking up his eyes instantly drawn to him best friend.

Scott shuffled forward a little then froze; he didn't want to scare his best friend, but his inner wolf was begging to check on him. Stiles dropped Isaac's hand and stumbled over to Scott and collapsed in his arms. Scott was careful not to hold him too hard and didn't mind that Stiles buried his face in Scott's shoulder.

It was only for half a second, but Scott felt relieved that his friend even came over to him. Stiles took a step back and reached blindly behind him for Isaac to grab onto his hand again.

The group made their way, Isaac letting Stiles lean on him more than necessary, toward the cars. He wasn't sure if it was intentional or not that he had gotten in the more spacious car of the two. Allison sat in the driver's side as Isaac and Stiles sat in the back, while the others crammed into Lydia's Bug.

The ride to Derek's loft took less than 5 minutes and realization dawned on Stiles. "What?" Isaac asked at the look on Stiles' face.

"You guys could hear me. That's how you found me."

Allison's hands gripped tightly at the wheel as Isaac nodded at the smaller boy. "We check the perimeter at the same time each day and on the way back to Derek's he said he heard something. Had Allison pull over and it wasn't hard to find you from there." The "in the box" hung in the air as Lydia parked next to them.

"No fucking way!" Exclaimed with a bright smile as she saw Stiles drag his way into the loft. She bounced her way over to him, but stopped short when she saw him flinch and could smell the fear rolling off of him.

"Nobody can kill Batman." He gave her a crooked grin and she returned it. Both smiles fake.

Stiles settled in on the couch next to Stiles with Erica off to the other side of him, Lydia and Jackson took up the love seat, Boyd came back with a glass of water and took a seat by Erica, Derek just stood there, observing the group, and Scott was pacing around the room. They all sat in an awkward silence. The tension was so high that Stiles imagined this is what it was like for people to do an orgy for the first time while sober.

"Look," Scott's voice hitched as he looked at Stiles. "I'm going to call my mom." He brought his phone out of his pocket and started dialing.

"No!" Stiles hopped off of the couch with wide eyes.

"Stiles, you need a doctor." Allison's soothing voice called from a chair off to the side and stood up to walk closer, but he took a few steps back, causing her to halt.

"No I don't." He through his arms around in a normal Stiles fashion, he winced as some of his wounds tugged.

"See, you're in pain!"

Stiles tossed a glare over to the smirking strawberry blonde, but there was no real anger behind it. He ran a hand over his hair and shook his head.

"It'll be fine, Stiles. Isaac will be here and he's been through some of this and-"

"No Scott!" Stiles exploded and through his arms out around him. "You don't get it and I know you can smell it!" He pointed a finger at Derek then Scott, his voice having a hysterical edged. "You're mom, man, she was like mine and she has these nurse instincts. She'll know and...I-I can't. I just can't, okay?"

"Isaac will be here, okay?" Scott stepped closer to his hysterical friend.

"Isaac didn't get it ram-" Stiles stopped short and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine." He tossed himself back onto the couch, this time keeping an even distance between Erica and Isaac. He latched onto his bottom lip and bit down, eyes looking at the wooden floor. That was new; the floor used to be concrete.

"What happened?" Scott crouched down in front of Stiles, trying to catch light brown eyes with his own dark brown. A hand latched onto Scott's shoulder and yanked him back, falling on his ass a few feet away. His eyes flashed yellow, but went back to normal when he saw the red eyes looking down on him.

"Isaac, take Stiles your room until Scott's mom gets here." His eyes never leaving Scott's, but everyone heard the two retreating footsteps. "He was raped. You need to know when to keep your mouth shut." Derek growled out to his beta as he snatched the phone from his hands, mouth gaped open at the Alpha. "Hey Ms. McCall, it's Derek... oh no he's fine, but we do need a favor... Do you think you could come down here with your bag? ... Thanks, Melissa." He let out a short laugh before hanging up and dropping the phone on Scott's chest.

"How can you tell?" Allison reached out and helped her boyfriend up.

"I can smell it."

The werewolves in the room all took a moment to smell the air. The clear scent of pain, fear, and shame all hung in the air, but that's not what they focused on. Shame filled off of the poor boy and lingered everywhere Stiles had occupied in the room, along with a faint sent that was familiar to all of them. The stale sent of sperm mixed with the familiar smell of a wolf, a wolf that none of them knew. Growls erupted around the room as the pack realized how hurt one of them actually is.

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